


midnight suns

by tanyart



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2019-12-26 21:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18290600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: A few short scenes about sleeping and waking and maybe some thoughts. (Not in chronological order.)





	1. 1300

It was past noon, and Shin was asleep in Drifter’s bed. He had been there since late last  _night_.

Drifter didn’t know how it started — letting Shin doze off after they’d fuck. It kept the guy in Drifter’s sights though;  _‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’_  and all that. But maybe this was a little too close for a little too long.

Usually Shin would wake up and leave on his own, but this morning Shin just plain didn’t get  _up_. At all. He slept like the dead even when Drifter rolled out of bed himself and rustled around getting dressed. Either Shin hadn’t gotten any sleep in a while or Drifter really _did_  do a number on him last night.

But Drifter’s smugness could only last so long before restlessness kicked in. He really needed to get going, open up Gambit and take care of some personal business. It was getting late enough, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave Shin alone on the Derelict.

Drifter directed his gaze towards the bed and the sprawled lump that was supposed to be Shin. He had already pulled the covers off earlier that morning in a not-so-subtle attempt to wake him, but Shin ran hot blooded like most Solar Lightbearers so it didn’t really bother him none.

So now Drifter just had a naked body in his bed, which didn’t help at all. Ended up throwing a sheet over Shin for his sanity’s sake while he gave the Derelict’s systems a once-over.

Drifter blew out his cheeks, gathered all the irritation he could muster, and walked over to sit at the edge of the bed. He thought about slapping a hand over Shin’s backside then thought better of it. Lot of stories out there about not poking a sleeping bear. The risk of shaking the Man With the Golden Gun awake and getting shot in the face didn’t seem like a smart gamble.

“Rise n’ shine, hotshot,” Drifter announced instead, obnoxiously cheerful, and then accidentally laid a hand on Shin anyway — just a touch at his hip over the thin blanket.  _Damn_.

Shin blinked awake, though the way he turned his face further into the pillow,  _awake_  seemed like a debatable state of mind. Drifter patted his side again, mocking, and nearly scrambled off the bed when Shin abruptly sat up, dark hair a rat’s nest and squinting at Drifter.

Drifter held his ground and felt damned foolish he’d been startled. Shin Malphur with his eyes all gummed up and sporting some serious bed head was probably the least intimidating he’d ever seen him. “Beauty sleep’s over. Get up. Bet you got plenty of things to do, people to hunt-”

And he would’ve kept talking, just to be annoying, but then Shin made a grumpy little noise, sniffed hard, and slumped forward into Drifter’s unresisting arms, burying his face into Drifter’s shoulder.

“ _Wuh?_ ” Drifter said, going for genuine intelligence. He was unsure if he was more bewildered by Shin snuggling against him, or how his own traitorous hand came up to hold the back of Shin’s head, almost as if Drifter wanted to keep him there. If anyone asked, it was only because it was  _warm_.

“I’m up,” Shin muttered unconvincingly. His hand clung on to the hem of Drifter’s shirt, probably mistaking it for the bedsheet.

“C’mon. I gotta get Gambit going. I’m kicking you out.” His fingers lightly scratched at Shin’s scalp, not sure if it really bolstered his threat. He tightened his grip, pulling Shin’s hair in warning. Much better. More their speed.

And if the muffled sound from Shin sounded more pleased than not, well, that wasn’t going to be Drifter’s call. The pull did get Shin to finally move though, even if he did turn his head in and breathed deep, like he was taking in a good whiff into the curve of Drifter’s neck before pushing off.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m goin’,” Shin said, yawning and rubbing his eyes as if he just hadn’t completely devastated Drifter. To add insult to injury, he nudged Drifter aside and got up, shuffling around for his clothes.

Drifter handed Shin his pants and boots. He  _had_  to get this man off his ship. Had to. Even if he had to throw him out the airlock himself.

Turned out, Shin left on his own just fine, and was back again in three days. Same situation.

This time, Drifter didn’t hesitate to shake Shin awake. He sure as fuck learned his lesson, and sure enough, Shin woke up sleepy, pulling Drifter in with a grumble.

This time, Drifter let himself go down back in bed with him.


	2. 0200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drifter wakes up.

Drifter woke up to low thrumming paranoia stirring in his gut, whispers in his ear, and the usual nauseating star bursts behind his eyes. He held back the instinct to jump out of bed, waited for the whispers grow softer, and then opened his eyes to clear away the lingering visions. 

Next to him, sitting at his worktable, was a different kind of nightmare.

Shin’s silhouette was a misshapen lump against the lamplight, curled into Drifter’s coat as he tapped at a datapad. His mussed, flyaway hair was giving the Derelict’s garden vines a run for their money. Shin hadn’t noticed Drifter coming awake yet, and Drifter snatched up the few precious moments to settle his mind. When Shin pulled Drifter’s robe higher over his shoulder, the whispers stopped long enough for Drifter to hear the cloth rustle.

Drifter only breathed, slow, and got his heart to stop rattling inside his rib cage until Shin paused his tapping, pressing the sleeve to his face to rub at his eyes. The gesture seemed too human. A detail so small the legends and popular retellings will never think to mention.

Drifter didn’t make a sound, but Shin turned his head to look back at him anyway, and when he did, his long eyelashes threw dark shadows across his cheek, making Drifter stare. Shin blinked, once, and it seemed like he expected Drifter to still be sleep — almost like he was only trying to sneak a glance. The thought made Drifter uncomfortable, even if he was guilty of the same thing.

“The hell you take my clothes for?” he muttered to break the silence. Even to his own ears, he sounded too grumpy and suspicious.

Shin’s mouth turned down. He crossed his arms, and Drifter noticed he was naked under there. He tried not to look again as Shin leaned back against the chair, coat falling open to show his bare chest and waist. 

“You pulled all the blankets,” Shin replied, head tilting lazily to his shoulder. There was not much evidence of what Drifter had done to him hours ago, and nothing that stirred the heat in him into wanting more. Shin only sat with the kind of straightforwardness that came with living for too long to care about modesty.

It was the way Shin looked, comfortable in Drifter’s coat, that made Drifter want to edge away until his back was to the wall. He couldn’t even do that either, not with all the blankets wrapped around him. He really _did_ steal them all during the night. What got him wondering was the fact Shin didn’t bother stealing them back — left the small bed and stole his coat instead.

Drifter grumbled. It wasn’t an apology. Instead, he unraveled a bit of his blankets, lifting the front and tried not to shrink back as the cold air seeped in and stole the warmth from his skin.

“C’mon,” he muttered, motioning for Shin to get a move on, and ignored the way Shin perked up, chair scooting back as he sprung up from his seat. “Don’t gank my coat again.”

Shin took off the coat, left it on the floor. When he crawled back under the covered with Drifter, he was warmer than the blankets.


	3. 1800

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shin wakes up.

There was a heavy weight over Shin’s chest and maybe, for once in his life, it was only physical. Shin opened his eyes, vision blurry from sleep, and saw that the top of Drifter’s head was pressing against his cheek.

Drifter’s even breaths ghosted over his throat. Slowly by surely, Shin felt himself grow hot. 

A prickle of confusion crawled up his spine, along with sick curiosity. This wasn’t the first time he had woken up in Drifter’s bed with Drifter still asleep, but this was the first time Drifter had pressed himself so close during the night, unconscious to them both. It used to be that Shin would leave after they’d fuck — how it came to this… 

It was slow. It snuck up on them. Shin struggled for a moment, knowing it was damn foolish, but he turned his head to look anyway.

Against all odds, Drifter dozed on. His expression had lost its usual smug look, though it never did manage to smooth out in his sleep. With the all bravado gone, what was left was a pinched, unhappy look; his brow stayed furrowed, his mouth was turned down. Any sleep Drifter gave himself, it wasn’t restful. Shin knew — with the nightmares and visions and the whispers — Drifter had forfeit the right to peaceful rest a long time ago. Shin doubt he helped matters any.

Despite that, Drifter was pressed close Shin, one leg bent over Shin’s stomach, arm tucked to his own chest, and hand curled into a loose fist. He slept small and huddled, like he wanted to shrink into himself and disappear from the world. 

Drifter twitched in his sleep, jaw clenching, the world still haunting him, so not even unconsciousness could grant relief from that.

Shin matched himself to Drifter’s breathing and exhaled when he could. Then he moved, slowly at first, and when Drifter started to stir, he slid his hand around Drifter’s wrist, entertained the thought of threading their fingers together, but did not go any further than that.

He expected Drifter to wake up startled at best or snarling at worst. At his touch, Drifter only opened his eyes, bleary, and Shin caught a flash of something across his face that made Drifter look even more tired, staring back at Shin.

He wondered if someone like Drifter ever got exhausted of his own paranoia. Live with it long enough and it simply became a part of you. Maybe Drifter didn’t know how to get on by without it. From the way Drifter was looking at him, Shin knew he wasn’t ever going to let go of that paranoia. It was the same for Shin, perhaps of a different kind, but no less ingrained.

The two of them had long resigned themselves to different miseries, unwilling to change or abandon it. Maybe it was well deserved. On both their parts.

Even so, Shin eased up, careful and slow, and lifted Drifter’s wrist close. He felt the muscles of Drifter’s body tense beside him, meeting with some instinctive resistance (only a small flinch, but it spoke volumes). Shin put his lips to Drifter’s quickening pulse. 

Drifter never did relax, his body staying rigid through the whole thing, wary like nothing else. Just looked more wretched the longer Shin lingered at his wrist, and then downright miserable as he abruptly pushed up to kiss Shin’s forehead.

At that moment, with Drifter’s lips brushing against his skin, Shin felt the same. He let go of Drifter’s wrist. 

Drifter sank back down and huddled into himself, making himself small again. Shin got up, got dressed. Left Drifter to fall back asleep, though he knew it wasn’t going to come easy.

Turned out, the weight in Shin’s chest never had a chance.


	4. 1400

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Renegade & Drifter. Pre-hook up. "Oh no there is only one bed and we don't have to share at all but if you want we could?"

Drifter never figured the Renegade for a shy creature. The man was decisive with near everything — a gun, a fight, and even with his words. He didn’t even seem much bothered by the fact they were stranded in the middle of a Darkness area, deep within Io’s’ core. The Taken themselves didn’t pose much of a threat either.

The problem came when the jump portal out wouldn’t charge, and Drifter had to siphon a careful portion of his Light and — after some convincing — the Renegade’s to fuel the cells. Neither one of them were very willing to expend more than a couple of orbs at a time so charging the portal was going to take a good twelve hours, at least.

Drifter told the Renegade as much, but the Renegade only shrugged and kept to his corner of their little half-hidden cave. He made for a comical cloaked lump in the dim light, too low to stand proper or do much of anything, other than to turn their wrists and let their orbs of Light roll from their sleeves.

Well, twelve hours of sitting seemed like one hell of a boring time. Drifter figured that time was better spent laying down and grabbing some shut eye. He transmatted down a bedroll and rolled it flat with a kick.

The end of the bedroll flopped over one of the Renegade’s boot, and Renegade glanced back so fast Drifter thought he must’ve seen a Taken duck into their cave.

“What’re you doing?” the Renegade asked, sounding testy.

“What’s it look like? I’m taking a nap,” Drifter said. There was enough room for it so he didn’t know why the attitude. He patted the bedroll. “Feel free to join me, cranky. Sounds like you’re due for one anyhow.”

It was only an unthinking offer, more practical than teasing. Drifter certainly didn’t mean anything more by it. But it was still an interesting thing, seeing the Renegade get all ruffled and spooked. He had a funny way of showing it — shoulders drawing up, body going rigid, that slight turn of his head to show that he had looked away from Drifter for a split second. Even with the helmet covering his expression, it was clear as day the Renegade was uncomfortable with the idea.

Drifter raised his eyebrows. He had a hard time believing a fella as old and well-traveled as the Renegade would be so averse to sharing a bedroll. Prudes never did end of surviving for long anyway.

“Geez, alright. I get it,” Drifter said, waving him off, though the Renegade made no move to say anything. It was better for Drifter’s peace of mind to pretend the Renegade wasn’t just stricken into dumbfounded silence. Would’ve been easier if he was given a straightforward _‘gee, no thanks, Drift’_ for an answer. From the way he acted, Drifter might as well have asked the Renegade for a quick fuck. He laid himself down on the bedroll without ceremony, not really in the mood to dwell on it. “Just so we’re clear, wasn’t gonna jump your bones or nothin’.”

The Renegade ducked his head, made a weird gesture with his hand in front of his helmet, like he wanted to hide his mouth or rub at his cheek before he aborted the motion. Could be he just wanted to make another orb of Light too — it rolled from his palm and zipped into the charger. 

“Aw, break my heart,” the Renegade said dryly, and he sounded normal enough again that Drifter wondered if he hallucinated the long stretch of silence. 

“Just tryin’ to save your back,” Drifter said, rolling to his side. He shut his eyes. “Twelve hours is a mighty long time not spent horizontal on the ground.”

That got a quiet laugh, more like the Renegade Drifter knew. Another moment later, Drifter heard him pad over, bedroll rustling as he eased down next to Drifter. There was enough room in the cave for them to lay side by side without touching, but small enough that if the Renegade happened to brush elbows with him, Drifter wouldn’t have blamed him.

The Renegade shifted, far enough to have his back pressed against the opposite cave wall — a safe, comfortable distance away. 

And, well, it was hard to say if Drifter was disappointed, but he couldn’t blame him for that either. 


	5. 2300

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drifter wakes up.

Drifter wakes up to pain at his shoulder. His left arm feels like it’s been cut off, cold and unfeeling, and his heart rattles inside his ribcage like he’s just had another nightmare.

He can’t remember the nightmare. Usually, he does. Drifter calms his breathing, his thoughts, and then feels foolish; Shin is only sleeping on his arm, the length of his body tucked against him. A bubble of irritation wells up in Drifter’s chest — anger at Shin, embarrassment at himself. 

There’s a fist clinging to the front of his shirt. At first, he thinks it’s his own, white-knuckled and and fingers like ice through the fabric. Drifter breathes, trying to shake off the fog of sleep and get his wits back. His hand flexes at his side, all pins and needles, but not at his chest. Shin’s hand then. He turns his head and looks at Shin, whose eyes still move under shut eyelids, tight at the corners.

Shin’s hand fastens over Drifter’s shirt, cold as Void. He’s silent. No anxious muttering, nothing that’ll spill his secrets, just having one helluva miserable time sleeping.

So Drifter’s not the only one with nightmares. Live as long as they have, you're bound to every phantom of being alive, especially in sleep.

It’s not often that he runs warmer than Shin. Shin has never said a word of it aloud, but Drifter can feel it in him sometimes — that underneath all those stories of fire and ash, there's a chasm of Void, empty and calm and dark.

He's sure Shin has long harnessed all three main energies, but sometimes, watching Shin settle cool-headed in a gunfight, he thinks Shin's sense for the Void is as significant as his affinity for the sun. For whatever reason, Shin just isn't inclined to show it. Could be smart thinking, getting people to only see him as the Man with the Golden Gun when he could also be a Hunter with the Spectral Blades, proper monster that he is.

Even so, Drifter gets it. He doesn’t put much stock in being solely dedicated to one energy. Solar, Void, or Arc. Light or Darkness. You do what you must to survive. Funny to think Shin has the same idea, deep down.

Shin’s breath against his chest feels like the Derelict’s air. Doesn’t even fog up, and now Drifter’s toes are cold. Damn.

He isn't gonna waste an ounce of Light heating the bed up. Solar energy isn’t spilling out of him in waves like _some_ people, so Drifter pulls the covers up over Shin then settles his hand over Shin's fist, thumb sweeping over the knuckles.

Being cold — he’s used to that. Already died frozen a hundred times. Now, anything that burns gets him jumpy.

Shin shifts against him, still sleeping. Likely drawn in to Drifter’s warmer body for once. Drifter feels Shin’s grip on his shirt loosen. In turn, Drifter’s hand curves more snug over Shin’s.

It’s colder than usual. But it isn’t so bad this time.


End file.
